No Ashes No Dust

Warriorpunk

     My body flickered to the scene of my descendant being shocked with the voltage of 200 in an attempt to revive him. You'd think that five centuries from my generation, everything would be extra advanced. Exactly 521 Years from 2016 and they still didn't make any improvements to that device, it was the same handle with metal sheets that transmitted electric current to the heart.

     The time machine my uncle invented has thrown me in front of my connection to this future; my last descendant grandson.

     Future was way different than all the predictions that were made in the movies. Communication wasn't done telepathically. Cars weren't wheel-less and had no anti-gravity system attached to their base. In other words, they never floated in mid air. Human assistants weren't replaced by robots, and finally, food wasn't just powder which you'd add water to in order for it to puff and become a big fat oven-baked turkey cooked to perfection. Damn our media, they let us set bars so high.

     I looked at the miserable, yet super hygienic city through the hospital's window. There wasn't so much I could describe, just a bunch of atmosphere scrapers. People dressed in nylon, because the lands were mostly dead from over cultivation to the point that they decided to grow things more important than cotton.

     People here minded their own business, and by that, I mean these people can actually pass by a guy choking on something and just look away not minding the person dying in front of them. I even witnessed that on my first day here.
I remembered running to help the guy while they all gave me dirty looks that made me feel like I was doing something extremely unethical. Their hateful stares were so sharp it could pierce through the flesh.

     The worst part was how he reacted to me saving him, "Don't touch me!" He dusted his unsightly yellow nylon as if I rubbed dirt all over it.

     I was about to go into combat mode, but he suddenly stopped dusting the nonexistent dirt he thought he caught from me. In a blink, the guy's facial expression of extreme disgust has faded. He looked at me with his eyes as wide as my pencil case unzipped. "Is that actual cotton?" He asked as he came closer.

     I took a step back keeping my personal space away from the ungrateful human dressed in nylon.

     "Ca-can I touch it please?" He said taking a step forward completely, wiping the extra space I made between us.

     I swear by my life, he stood for ninety seconds strong in the same position waiting for me to give a positive answer.

     Stretching an arm towards him, I crumpled the tip of its sleeve, "Here," I said as I offered my intact arm to the stranger whom I saved yet still showed me no gratitude.

     Wow, I was amazed by how smoothly he ran his fingers on the fabric of my cloth. His eyes shut as if it helped sharpen his touching ability; his head moved slowly as if he was dancing to some classical melody only he could hear. I seriously fought the urge to pull back my arm from the lunatic.

     I watched him carefully...the most creepy thing in my life was happening in front of me. My spine was shaking and could dislocate all my thirty-three discs from how freaked out I was. Satisfied from his abnormal activity, he opened his eyes and gave me a smile.

     "Thanks for giving me the honor of sensing how real actual cotton felt like." He immediately left, forgetting to thank me for saving his life.

     "Fulfill your dream of owning your very own house in the City of Sinan..." The street TV across the hospital interrupted my reminiscing of my first day here. Yup, commercials were as non-convincing as ever. My gaze shifted from the window to the TV.